


The Long Sleep

by TheCynicalSquid



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCynicalSquid/pseuds/TheCynicalSquid
Summary: Louis has been acting oddly for a while and has everyone worried. When he disappears for a week and no one can find him Lestat realises it's more serious than he thought. Perhaps Louis path leads to places Lestat cannot follow. Can Lestat learn that sometimes, if you love someone, you have to let them go?
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Comments: 25
Kudos: 64





	1. Detached

**Author's Note:**

> I've been getting into Vampire chronicle fan fiction recently so thought I'd try writing something. This is set sometime after the most recent book when everyone is living in the chateau. Hope you enjoy!

Lestat tried to ignore it at first, all of the signs. He remembered the first time which had given him pause.

He had walked into the small tower room off of Louis’ suite in the chateau. He had built it especially for him, a quiet place, just for him, separate from the rush and busyness of the rest of the chateau. The walls were filled floor to ceiling with books, there was a large fireplace and round it two plush red velvet armchairs, one for Louis and one for him, with the agreement that Lestat was only allowed to come in if he was going to be quiet and let Louis read. As he entered the room, he saw Louis sitting, leaning back against the chair with his legs crossed, book he was reading in his lap. Lestat stopped in the doorway, alerted by something off which he could not yet identify. Louis had not noticed him enter, which was not unlike him when he was reading, but there was something… Then Lestat noticed it, the book was there, and Louis was looking at it, but his eyes did not move, he wasn’t reading, just staring at the spaces between the letters, the blank on the page. Lestat stood watching for a while, the both of them pale statues in the room. Eventually Lestat shook himself back to life and walked slowly over to his chair, intentionally making his footfalls heavy to alert Louis to his presence. Louis slowly blinked and his brow furrowed as the noise of Lestat settling down in his chair roused him. He looked up and Lestat thought that his usually bright emerald eyes seemed clouded to him, dulled. 

“Are you alright louis?” Asked Lestat, “you seemed very engrossed, what are you reading?”

“Oh, I urm…” Louis’ eyes fell back to the book he had been staring at, “I suppose I was, it’s just some Russian poetry, nothing you’d be interested in.”

Lestat felt his apprehension lightening, he had been making too much out of it, Louis had probably just been thinking deeply about some line or other from the poems. He let it go and proceeded to ask Louis about the court matters which had been his initial intention.

But as the next few weeks and months passed, Lestat began to notice this behaviour in Louis more and more. He was also sleeping longer and retiring to his chambers early. Once he had been hosting a ball at the chateau, a fairly common occurrence. But this had been to celebrate midsummer, everyone had dressed in their finest and there had been fountains of flowers and beautiful light music. He had managed to coax Louis into the most wonderful outfit and had even managed to sneak a few flowers into his hair which matched the colour of suit he himself had been wearing, they looked magnificent and the night had been perfect. Louis had seemed happy and attentive. And then just as the party began full swing with dancing and revelry, he had started to drift away from his place beside Lestat who was sitting on his “throne” (though he hated calling it that). Louis walked, almost as if he were sleep walking away to the edge of the room and then around. Lestat rose, signalling his bodyguards to stay where they were for now and followed. He caught up with him as he was about to start ascending the stairs to his rooms.

“Louis, mon cheri, where are you going, the party is just getting started?”

Louis stumbled to a halt and turned slowly,

“Oh, hello Lestat, I’m sorry I was just going…” He trailed off and Lestat waited for a reply growing a little annoyed. He crossed his arms and demanded,

“Well?”

“I just feel a little…” he struggled for a word, “tired.” He sighed eventually, though it seemed not to be what he truly meant.

“Tired? But Louis, it is not gone 1am, the night is young yet! Come,” Lestat urged, “come back and dance with me, please.”

“No, not tonight, my love,” Louis had whispered and then started to ascend the stairs away from Lestat. Lestat had been secretly furious inside to be walked away from so casually, Louis took him for granted so much sometimes! He’d stormed away and danced all night in the arms of other beautiful vampires in an attempt to push Louis rejection away. But every time he span around to face a new partner, he couldn’t help the hitch in his chest when he thought it might be Louis and never was. Sometimes his heart was such a bastard.

After that night Lestat had avoided Louis, he’d made an effort not to consult him on anything and to always be somewhere he knew his fledgling would not be. He just couldn’t face him in this new state, it irritated him and he didn’t want to say hurtful things, so he boxed it up ad filed it away with other things he didn’t want to deal with.

That was until a few weeks later; a knock came at the door to his study. He put aside the bill Marius had drafted up and indicated for his bodyguard stationed at the door to admit whoever it was. Armand walked through the door. The young faced vampire looked splendid in a well-tailored black suit with his bright auburn locks perfectly curling around his ears. A sharp contrast to the worried, angry expression plaguing his face

“Well, Armand, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Lestat began,

“My liege.” Armand bowed stiffly, mocking with the formality.

Lestat felt his jaw stiffen and the grip on his pen tighten, “Well, get on with it, Armand, I do not have all day!”

He nodded and took a seat unbidden, “I have come to talk to you about your neglect of your fledglings”

“Excuse me!” Lestat coughed, unable to believe the audacity with which Armand was speaking to him,

“Where is Louis, Lestat?” Armand asked pointedly.

“Well, I don’t know where he is every second of the night Armand. Where’s Daniel right now, I’m sure you don’t know!”

“Daniel is out _looking_ for Louis, who hasn’t been seen by _anyone_ for a week! You know how Louis is Lestat, he’s prone to melancholy, and despite his new strength, he doesn’t seem inclined to use it, he’s still one of the weakest of us. You’re meant to be looking after him, you’re his god damn maker, how could you not even have noticed!” Armand shouted.

That shut Lestat up immediately, “what do you mean, hasn’t been seen for a week, he would have told someone, he would have told _me_ , if he was going away.” Lestat rose from his chair and started to pace, all feelings of anger forgotten for the moment, “have you checked the New Orleans flat?”

“Of course, we’ve checked the fucking New Orleans flat, that’s where we went first. I’ve asked everyone in the chateau, no one has heard from him and he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. I can’t… I can’t even hear him Lestat.”

That made Lestat’s blood run cold, “what do you mean?! You’ve asked Marius, has he tried?”

“Marius isn’t in court right now, as I’m sure you know, I rang him and he’s tried and though he could feel something, he wasn’t sure. He’s returning tonight to see if he can do better here, where Louis might be nearer.”

Lestat was now building up into a state of hysterics, this was his fault, he’d pushed Louis away as he always did just because Louis has been being a little infuriating. Why did he have to do this again and again?

“Oh god Armand, I should have known, he’s been acting so oddly recently, what if he’s gone and done something… again.” A pulse of fear struck him as the memory of seeing his beautiful tragic Louis, a pile of ash in a coffin. He couldn’t go through that again; he couldn’t survive it.

“Oddly, how do you mean oddly?” Armand asked, his brow furrowed.

“Just more detached than normal, more distant, like he was passing through life without touching it.” Lestat threw his hands in the air in exasperation, “You know how he gets Armand, but this felt… different. Usually it’s as though he’s purposefully sad, punishing himself for all of his imagined wrongs, but this was more out of his control, like he was half asleep and couldn’t wake up.”

Armand looked thoughtful as he mulled on this, “Well that’s a mystery for another time Lestat, now we must find him.”

Lestat nodded and roused himself from his guilt, “Let us go to meet Marius as soon as he arrives and not waste a minute more.”

Marius arrived around thirty minutes later, during which time Lestat thought he must have worn a hole through the floor with all of his nervous pacing. Marius landed on the roof of the chateau and strode over to Lestat, taking his hands, “How are you doing, Lestat? We will find him, I promise.” Having Marius’ wise, calm eyes on him gave him hope,

“I just can’t lose him, Marius, I can’t fail him again.”

“I know, my friend, I know.”

Then he went over to Armand and conferred quietly with him for a second.

“Okay, some quiet please, if you will.” Marius asked, then he shut his eyes and focused his mind. After a few minutes of tense silence, he opened them again, his brow furrowed.

Lestat was at his side in a second,

“Well? Did you hear him, where is he?”

“I felt him yes…” Here Marius paused, “But he felt…odd, I know Louis’ mind fairly well and it seemed different.” He shook himself, “but that is of little consequence, I believe I can take you to him.” And with that he took off from the roof and the others followed. He travelled north of the castle quite a few miles to the centre of the Auvergne, where the trees were still thick and wild.

“He is somewhere here,” Marius spoke up over the wind, “We will have to search with our ears now.”

They each descended to a separate part of the woods and began the search.

Lestat walked through the trees and then stopped to listen, his hearing picking up every animal in the area and the rustling of the trees but little else. He walked a little further a stopped again. This time he heard something else in the forest, something other than the natural rhythms. He turned and made his way towards the sounds, heart in is throat, both desperate and anxious. Then he spotted him, making his way through the trees. He would have rushed to embrace him immediately, but the state Louis was in made him stop. He mentally called out to Marius and Armand, to come, but quietly. They arrived almost as soon as he sent the message and stood by his sides, also transfixed by the sight.

Louis was making his way through the trees almost silently despite his apparent lack of awareness of his world. His eyes were closed and his face lax and expressionless, like a sleepwalker. He swayed and almost seemed to slowly dance his way through the thick undergrowth. His clothing, a pair of dark jeans and a black sweater, were ripped and caked in dirt and grime, as was his skin. His skin was also sunken and pale, Lestat remembered that look from when Louis had tried starving himself for days on end in their first few decades together. Somewhere along his strange travels he had lost his shoes and he walked now in grimy muddy socks. His hair was a tangled mess, stuck with branches and dulled by a thick coating of dirt and dust. For a moment it reminded Lestat of his mother after she had spent the day in the ground, in a hole she had dug herself, and based on the state of Louis fingernails he supposed that was what he had been doing.

 _Be calm and gentle, it can be dangerous to wake a sleepwalker suddenly._ Marius messaged to Lestat, who nodded that he understood and slowly made his way towards Louis.

“Louis?” Lestat all but whispered, “Louis, my love, can you hear me?”

Louis did not stop in his swaying path, seemingly oblivious to Lestat’s presence.

“Louis?” Lestat spoke slightly louder and moved to gently touch his shoulder.

That stopped him suddenly mid-step and he swayed forwards and then backwards, trying to regain his balance. Lestat caught him and held him around the waist, going around to face him.

“Louis?” He whispered again desperately. His fledgling looked up at his maker, his eyes unfocused, no look of recognition on his face. Lestat felt a great weight crushing the breath out of his lungs. Louis slowly blinked and brought a hand up to rub some of the grime off his eyes,

“L-Lestat?” He croaked in a dry husky voice,

Lestat’s heart soared and he found he was able to breathe once again, “Yes, mon cheri, I’m here” and he pulled him into an embrace and vowed never to let him go again.

But eventually Louis pushed slightly and separated them, “What… what are we…?”

“Well I might ask you the same question, what the hell are you doing out here, caked in dirt with no shoes on?”

Louis looked down at himself and seemed to grow more confused, “I don’t remember… I – I”

“Now is not the time for questions I think,” Marius interrupted, “let’s get you home, a bath may be in order I think!”

Lestat bit off the questions and demands he was about to make and scooped Louis up into his arms and took off.

A few hours later, and at least three baths full of water later, Louis was ensconced on a plush couch between Lestat and Armand, dressed in clean comfortable clothes and wrapped in a thick blanket. Marius sat opposite and leant forwards to take Louis’ hands and fix him with his gaze.

“Now Louis, you have been gone for a week, what do you remember?”

Louis took a long time to answer, looking down at his and Marius’ hands.

“I remember… I went into Paris on Saturday, I think it was, it was very busy, I took a victim there and then I was returning. I don’t think I remember anything past that.” He frowned down at his feet as though it was their fault that he couldn’t remember.

“Wait! I do remember something else; I think I was only halfway back, I grew so tired, bone tired you know?” He looked to the vampires on either side of him for understanding, they nodded their encouragement. “I think I stopped then… Truly I remember nothing past that feeling.”

“Do you mind Louis, if I look into your mind to see if I gain anything further?”

Louis looked nervous at the thought but slowly nodded, “I suppose, it seems wise.”

Marius nodded and moved closer to rest his hands on the sides of Louis head and closed his eyes once again.

“Yes, I see the flight back to the chateau, and the fatigue…” A look of some understanding crossed his face at this point, but he did not elaborate, “and then, everything is hazy, I can make out some shapes and sounds but nothing distinct.” Marius removed his hands and Louis collapsed slightly into Lestat’s waiting arms, exhausted from the process and all that had gone on.

“I think that is enough for now.” Lestat said while holding Louis, “dawn grows near and it’s been a long night, we will talk more in the evening.

Marius nodded his consent, “And talk we must.” He added elusively.

Lestat frowned at him, nervous of his tone, but more concerned with the state of Louis. He helped him up and then took him to his sleeping chamber and helped him down into his coffin.

“Louis?” He murmured, and the exhausted vampire looked up at him through heavy eyes, “please never do that to me again, don’t leave.” Louis relaxed down onto the cushioned lining and closed his eyes fully, all of the energy gone from him.

“I’m sorry Lestat, I promise to try.” And with that the death sleep took him and nothing Lestat said would rouse him. Lestat stayed for a long time looking down upon the smooth relaxed face of his lover, so often creased and strained in waking life. A surge of love and protectiveness washed through him but also the familiar fear, the fear which came from Louis weakness, the fear that he would leave or be taken away, the fear that he would be completely lost. Lestat had always felt this, since the moment he had laid eyes on Louis, that was why he had transformed him, so that this innocent, beautiful being need never be lost to the world. But as so many of his plans, it had not worked out the way he had hoped. He had felt this fear still, after Louis first opened his vampire eyes onto the world, for that innocence and vulnerability followed him, even into his immortal life. Even when he had drunk the blood of the elders and become almost as powerful as Lestat in theory, he seemed to walk through life as a prey animal does, forever vulnerable and at risk.

Lestat had often thought of it like when, as a child, one comes across a baby bird and hopes to be the one to nurse it back to health. The child sees all that the bird may be, an exciting and vibrant companion if one could only coax it through the first stages of life. The child does not see the broken parts of the chick, the reason it is so close to death. The child does not see that the bird will inevitably die, that it was not chosen to be one to survive in this cruel world. It seems that such a delicate and beautiful blessing could never die. And the child tirelessly tries to nurture the small life, before invariably being crushed by finding it one day in its little cardboard box, made suddenly grotesque by death. He felt as though he had been trying to nurture this lost and abandoned soul for the past two-hundred odd years and with every day that passed, the fear that this would be the last day or that the last day was at least drawing near grew stronger.

And then days would come when it seemed that Louis had finally spread his wings and was taking off on his own; when he left with Claudia – as painful and betraying at that time had been -, when he rose up against the vampires who had killed her, when he separated from Lestat and went to live independently, when he had seemed to choose happiness and created the beautiful vampire Merrick and most recently when Lestat had gone to New Orleans to persuade him to come to the chateau and he had shown off the use of his new powers. But all of these times inevitably led to Louis falling back to earth, he trusted the wrong people, he seemed disinterested in looking after himself, he found something wonderful but ruined it by failing to grasp it fully in both hands, like what he had had once with Armand, which petered away through lack of care, and perhaps what he had had on and off for so long with Lestat. And that most awful time when he had been consumed by guilt over his choices and perceived wrongs and had committed himself to the sun.

Lestat signed and shook himself out of this reverie, it did little good to go over this well-trodden ground in his mind again. Dawn was fast approaching; he carefully covered his precious Louis coffin over before finding his own rest for the day.


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius sheds some light on the situation and Lestat is none too happy about it.

They had arranged to meet early in the evening, but upon seeing Louis gaunt, starved face when he stumbled out of his chamber, Lestat immediately ushered Louis down to the lower dungeons, where the chateau’s less willing guests were held. Louis usually turned his nose up at this captive feeding, it didn’t fit with his convoluted morals, but today he put up no resistance as Lestat lead him to one of the rooms and asked one of the younger vampires on duty to bring a victim. The young one jumped at seeing the Prince and his consort in person and rushed off to do as he was bidden. He returned moments later with a rather nasty looking man, but he looked healthy and Lestat thanked the young vampire before sending him away. He turned to his fledgling,

“Now Louis, I know you don’t want -” He stopped mid sentence as Louis descended onto the victim. Lestat had rarely seen him so savage, he almost ripped the man’s neck as he drank greedily. He was so engrossed that Lestat worried he may not stop as the man’s heart stopped. As this point grew nearer, he placed a strong hand on Louis arm,

“That’s enough my love,” He said forcefully. Louis moaned and tried to keep drinking; the man was on the verge of death. Lestat ran his hand along Louis cheek and forced his head to turn and disengage from the blood. Louis looked up at him with a longing in his eyes, his face covered in blood. He suddenly looked like he was on the verge of crying, He pushed the now dead slumped body away from him in disgust. Lestat pulled him close before he could turn away and didn’t speak for a while. He turned the younger vampire’s face up to his and took out a red handkerchief from his pocket. HE proceeded to wipe the blood away tenderly. When it was all gone, he bent and planted a tender kiss on Louis lips and pulled him closer until Louis head was rested in the crook of his neck.

“I haven’t been that hungry in a long time, I used to go much longer without a victim.” Louis murmured into Lestat’s neck.

“One grows unused to deprivation my friend, and anyway you look much better now.”

Louis nodded and sighed in what seemed like regret,

Lestat regarded him for a moment, “you want another?”

Louis sighed, obviously tempted, “no, let us go and meet Marius, it would be rude to keep them waiting.”

* * *

They found Marius and Armand in a small parlour, already seated.

“Ah, Louis, you look much better today.” Marius said, taking the lead of the conversation. Armand sat, looking unhappy and anxious but said nothing. Lestat frowned to see this and tried to glean what was troubling him from his mind. Armand’s eyes fixed on Lestat and he could gain no entry, the youth’s mind was like a steel trap.

_Just wait to hear what Marius has to say, Brat Prince -_ Armand projected into his mind in a disapproving tone. Lestat let it go, respecting the older vampire’s privacy, even if he disliked his tone.

“Well Marius,” Louis started nervously, “what is that you have to tell us?”

Marius paused for a moment and then started, “It seems to me Louis, that you were in a kind of sleep walking state, as everyone here has already surmised, I’m sure.”

“Yes, we guessed that Marius, but vampires don’t really ‘sleepwalk’ do they?” Lestat said a little impatiently.

“Yes, well, it certainly is unusual behaviour for a blood drinker,” Marius conceded, “I think it may be that what Louis is experiencing is the pull of The Long Sleep.”

Lestat and Louis looked at him blankly for a moment,

“The Long Sleep… what do you mean?” Louis asked in a quiet uncertain voice.

“I am referring to the state in which a vampire goes to ground and does not arise with the next sunset, or the one after that or for as many as it takes for their soul to be rejuvenated, for the waking world to regain some appeal. A form of hibernation. I have experienced this as you know, after the fall of Rome. Lestat has experienced it as well, after he returned from Paris when you parted ways.” Marius seemed reluctant to bring this up, but it had little effect on the pair really. “It is a natural part of the blood drinkers cycle, I believe. Fareed has been studying it in fact and he believes that it is a more mental than physical…” Marius stopped himself before he got too excited about this new research, realising from the faces of the pair in front of him that it was not, at this time, appropriate.

Louis was in one of the expressionless reveries into which he retreated in times of deep thought or strong emotion. Marius withdrew slightly allowing him this time to think, living for two-thousand years makes patience an easy virtue. Armand and Marius were so absorbed in Louis reaction that they did not notice the look on Lestat’s face until his chair clattered to the ground, forcefully shoved back as he rose and - what can only be described as – stormed, out of the room, slamming the door behind him so that the door itself splintered down the middle.

Louis flinched at the noise, flashbacks to Lestat’s many other angry outbursts casting a shadow over his features for a second before he covered it. But not quickly enough for Armand and Marius not to pick up on it. Armand reached out a hand, but Louis drew back, overwhelmed and concerned about Lestat and his reaction.

“I’m sorry, Louis I didn’t mean to upset you or Lestat.” Marius sounded very concerned.

“Thank you, Marius, there is of course nothing to forgive; you had to share this with us. You have given me a lot to think on, now if you will excuse me, I really must follow him…” Louis said in his polite way, avoiding eye contact with the others and making his way to the door.

As he reached the threshold, he felt Armand’s small strong hand grip his forearm,

“Louis, please I must say something to you.”

Louis softened at Armand’s touch and he hesitated a moment, inclining his head to indicate that he would listen.

“Louis, you must promise me that you will stand up for yourself and choose what is best for you,” Armand said directly, forcing Louis to meet his eyes, “I know what there is between you and Lestat, your relationship has always been unbalanced,” He held up a hand to silence Louis politely outraged protests, “Louis, I do not say this to upset you or to criticise what you have with Lestat, but I know that in the past you have chosen your companion’s happiness over your own, it is your character, and it most certainly is not a fault. But it does lead to you being easily bullied and Lestat, as much as I love him, has always been capable of that bullying when he fixes his will on something. Especially when it comes to you. I want you to know that whatever decision you make from here, as long as it is made by you and for you, I shall support you. Even if it not the popular opinion.” Armand finished, his young round face filled with such earnest love and concern that Louis heart swelled for a moment in a mirror of that love. He nodded and covered Armand’s hand where it still clutched his arm and nodded,

“I have always been able to count on you Armand.” He murmured, “Truly though I must now go.” Armand released him and watched his slowly retreating form down the corridor. He turned to find his master looking quite disapproving,

“What?” Armand demanded, “You know the sway Lestat has over Louis and how he will exercise it as he sees fit!”

“Yes, and I also know that Louis, however much you may want him, is not yours.” Marius said a little unkindly. He then frowned, obviously displeased by his own words; he tried again, “Lestat does need Louis, you know that, it is not in the best interests of the court for him to be leaving now for no-one knows how long. I love you for your conviction and your protectiveness Armand, but why is it that you must always be the opposition, the arguer, why do you always take the other side?”

Armand face became impassive and he showed none of what he was thinking to his master. Marius sighed, and rubbed his temples, “I really did not need this,” He murmured, “I must say this now though. I will always be on the side of whatever is better for this new coven.” And with that he kissed the top of Armand’s auburn locks and left the room,

“And what about what’s best for Louis?” Armand whispered into the empty room, too quiet for even the oldest of them to hear his words.

* * *

Louis searched much of the chateau before he found Lestat on a balcony overlooking the dense, close night, a few smothered stars glimmering past the thick clouds.

“Lestat,” Louis began, but Lestat silenced him with a firm movement of his hand and Louis was quiet, standing a few steps behind Lestat’s unmoving figure until he was ready to speak. After what seemed like hours, and may have been, for all that Louis could tell, Lestat turned his head. His body stayed facing out into the night so that Louis could only see his severe profile against the muggy light from the stars.

“Why, Louis?” He asked simply, in a voice which was calm, but which Louis knew all too well hid depths of untamed emotion which could form into any shape, at a wrong word. “Why does it have to be now?”

Louis did not speak, having no answer to this question and knowing that if he opened his mouth with no clear intent he would start babbling. So, he waited in pained silence for Lestat to speak further.

Lestat turned fully to look at him then and Louis saw that he was quickly working up to anger,

“Now we have everything, now everyone is around us and everything is going right, everything is going the way it should always have gone! Now is the time you want to withdraw, you always did make a beautiful bride of despair, didn’t you Louis?” Here he sneered with a disdain Louis had not heard from him in a long time. It made old pains twist in his chest. “To wish for such a thing now of all times, you must truly be able to find sorrow in any situation. Pathetic.” He spat the last word into the night, a knife, shaped exactly to fit into Louis heart. He stepped towards Louis and demanded, “Nothing to say for yourself, eh? No great complaint of the world and the god-awful hand you’ve been dealt, you have nothing to say?” He had been slowly advancing on Louis, until he was pinned against the cold stone of the outside wall, one of Lestat’s hands planted next to his head, the other holding his lapel like Lestat was about to start a bar fight with him. Louis remained frozen, his face drawn in and his hands hanging uselessly at his side. “No great proclamation of my own unworthiness, my lies, my cruelty, my inadequacy?” Lestat hissed.

Suddenly the anger drained out of Lestat like water leaking out of a bottle, he seemed to shrink in on himself and slumped to rest so that Louis had to almost support him lest he fall,

“Do you hate it all so much Louis, is it so awful to live here with me. I thought it was good.” The last part he whispered almost out of Louis hearing range, but he picked it up. Louis reached down and held Lestat’s head between his hands. He brought him up and kissed him, tenderly at first and then with more passion, after a little while, when tears had stopped leaking from Lestat’s eyes, Louis pulled away and looked Lestat directly in the eyes,

“I could never be unsatisfied with you, dearest,” He said clearly and with deep conviction, “I am not unhappy, I love you,” He rested his forehead on Lestat’s and whispered, “I will always love you Lestat, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.”

Lestat almost started to weep anew at this proclamation and he clung to Louis for fear of drowning in the sea of emotion he had found himself unmoored in.

“Then why?” He implored once again, “Why do you want to leave me again?”

“But I don’t want to leave you Lestat, this is not something I wish for, I am not unhappy with my life. Everything is finally how I always wished it to be also. I don’t know why this has come over me now of all times. Perhaps Marius was mistaken. Or perhaps it is something which can be overcome.”

“I do not think that I can do this without you Louis,” Lestat drew away enough to motion to their whole surroundings with a broad sweep of his arms, “you ground me, you make the tedious moments bearable, you make me stronger.”

“I do not know if that is true Lestat,” Louis smiled his beautiful innocent smile, “but if that is how it is, then of course I will stay with you, I won’t abandon you again, not now.”

“Promise me,” Lestat locked eyes with Louis again, his gaze searching for the truth in Louis soul, one of only a few souls on this earth locked to him and the one he had always wished to know the most deeply, “Promise me that this is something you do not wish for, promise me that you will stay.”

Louis held Lestat’s eyes for a moment and reflected on the mirror of Armand’s words from earlier in the night, _promise me that you will choose what is best for you_ , was this what was best? Was this what he truly wished for? He was uncertain, he had had so little time to digest the information. He had felt times of melancholy when he might have gone to earth before, but it had always seemed more natural for him to trudge on in life. Perhaps it was too great a decision for him to make, he had never been one for big decisions. He had been feeling different recently, that which had always sustained him, reading and art, seemed to oddly lack appeal. He felt a bodily weariness he had never before experienced in his preternatural life. A deep weariness as when you have pushed yourself to the limit and then been forced to go further still. The thought of sleep, of oblivion from this world, at least for a time, did hold some appeal for him it was true. But then he looked into Lestat’s bright blue eyes, so full of insecurity and need. Louis doubted that many people had seen Lestat insecure in his great life, but sometimes Louis could bring that out in him. He couldn’t truly fathom why so great and powerful a creature as Lestat should need him so desperately, but seeing these things in his eyes decided it, he could never refuse Lestat this.

“I promise my love, I promise.” The feeling of uneasiness at this decision was immediately wiped away by the bright sunlight of Lestat’s smile,

“We shall forge through this together, my beautiful one, I shall not abandon you to it and you shall not give yourself to it, together we will defy it!” The burning light of belief in this idea shone bright in Lestat’s eyes. Louis felt himself swept up in the conviction, this was something which could be overcome, what had Lestat ever failed to overcome? But deep down, the foreboding feeling still skulked in his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos, it's very encouraging! I hope you all enjoyed this one.


	3. Confessions and Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armand speaks with Louis and it has some unexpected consequences for them both.

“Tell me honestly Louis, please,” Armand insisted; grabbing onto Louis sleeve to slow his determined advance. This was the first time Armand had managed to get Louis alone in the weeks since he had gone missing. Whenever he had tried to speak with him, Louis had always brushed him off or used his manners and politeness to build a wall against him. But Armand felt a pressing need to get answers from him, even if he didn’t appreciate it now “Is this what you want?”

“Armand… please, I would really rather not discuss it at present.” Louis turned away and tugged on his sleeve, not wanting to make a scene by wrenching it out of Armand’s grip.

“Well, when will you want to discuss it Louis?” Armand exclaimed, “what have you decided? Has Lestat made demands of you?”

Louis sighed and brought a hand up to his face, he looked more drawn and strained than normal, “This has nothing to do with Lestat, Armand. I have decided that now is not a good time for me to… retreat. I am trying to resist the pull of sleep, for the court. It is still in it’s infancy and I would not be the one to pull it down through a rash decision.”

Armand was not convinced by these words; they had the ring of Lestat to them and perhaps Marius as well. “Is that truly the right decision for you Louis? Forget the court for now, is this the truth?”

“Yes.” Louis said through gritted teeth, “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, would I?” He snapped.

Armand drew back sharply at Louis rebuke; he had never known him to be short tempered or to speak with any anger at all. Armand’s reaction gave Louis pause and he sighed, rubbing his eyes,

“I’m sorry Armand, I didn’t mean to speak so to you, it’s just been…” He paused, unwilling to say out loud what he had been feeling these past weeks, since he had promised Lestat to resist the pull of the Long Sleep. To speak them out loud would make them true. To speak them out loud would be a betrayal.

Armand waited patiently, not pushing Louis to speak but not allowing the topic to drop either. A war of emotions passed across Louis drawn features. He didn’t look well. It wasn’t that he looked starved or ill, but rather that he looked haggard, tired, drawn out. Armand could not quite put a word to it, but this was not the thoughtful, patient Louis he knew.

Eventually, the side of Louis which wanted so desperately to speak won and he sighed in defeat. Armand saw the change and suggested that they continue walking, to give Louis time to formulate his words, and so they might be uttered in a more private place.

After walking for some time, Louis took a breath and began,

“I’m trying so hard Armand; I try every minute of every hour of the day. I try to be present, to be interested, to remain strong. I thought that at some point I wouldn’t have to try, that it would become easier. But it only gets harder and harder; more weight presses down on me every passing day. I feel I am being crushed, starved of oxygen and slowly suffocating.” Louis voice grew deeper and became quieter as he went on, his words crushed by the weight of emotion he was feeling. Armand did not interrupt, he simply stayed beside him as he unburdened himself of the truth. “I feel so…” Louis gesticulated around them, searching for the form of the words to express how he was feeling, “so… angry. For want of a better word. All the time. Everything which I once loved irritates me beyond expression. The words on the page, the paintings on our walls. They once brought me peace and I now cannot bear to look upon them. My nerves are jarring all the time. It is like my brain has been slowly filling up these past two-hundred years and now can hold no more. I feel as though I’m about to burst or break apart.” He stopped abruptly, eyes staring straight ahead, the raw emotion in his heart cresting and growing too strong for him to process. He hadn’t intended to speak so openly to Armand. This was why he had been avoiding him. Currently he was surrounded only by people who asked the question “how are you”, with the intent of receiving a cordial “well thank you” or “much better thank you”. There was no room for the truth. But being here, with one who so sincerely cared to hear the truth had unravelled him. He found that now the words were in the air, he could not move for fear of immediate and terrible retribution.

“I just,” He whispered in a small voice, “I just wish it could all stop.” And there, in the admittance of this fact, his betrayal was laid bare. His wasn’t strong enough in mind or will to fight this state. He couldn’t even fight it for the sake of the one whom he loved most dearly. He truly was pathetic and all the other things Lestat had ever accused him of being.

“Oh Louis,” Armand murmured, “have you not spoken of any of this to Lestat?” Louis recoiled at the very idea of such a thing.

“It would hurt him terribly to hear me say these things!” He proclaimed, “I could not do that to him. I must just keep trying.” But as he said these words, his voice cracked slightly, and it came out a pale imitation of Lestat’s confidently spoken words.

“But you have tried, and it is not going away. Some problems cannot be avoided, believe me from personal experience. Sometimes you must face that which you know to be wrong. Going along with the flow of it will only drag you deeper. And,” He turned to face Louis so that he must meet his eyes, “Lestat loves you and he will understand. Deep down he must want what is best for you, otherwise it is not love.” Louis flinched away from this idea, thinking back on all the times this had not been the case in their long history. Lestat could be easily blindsided by his own ideas of the way things should be, often at the detriment to others.

But it had always been him who had left Lestat in the end. Lestat had never abandoned him before, he had never given up. Even if his attempts at trying had been misguided and in the end more damaging. But perhaps Armand was right, things could not go on the way they were. And Lestat had grown so much in recent years. Taking on the responsibility of being prince had changed him most of all. He was less volatile now and less driven by selfish ideas of the way the world should be.

“Thank you, Armand, I shall think on what we have discussed.” Louis whispered; his voice troubled but thoughtful. And with that, the conversation was firmly ended. Armand respected this and said no more.

* * *

Lestat was very pleased, this was all going splendidly. After the unwelcome news of Louis affliction, he had been unsure how they would proceed. But Louis seemed to be doing very well. He was more attentive; he went off into less dazes and he seemed much more aware of it when it did happen now. Lestat was sure that this little blip on their road to happiness would be easily overcome. The alternative of losing Louis was too incomprehensible to even ponder, so he brushed thoughts of it away. He turned a corner in the large gardens, searching for his wayward fledgling. He thought they might go together to Paris this evening to feed and then maybe sit in a café for a while or take in a show, if Louis felt like it. He came around a large topiary bush and heard Louis voice “I shall think on what we have discussed” Lestat loved Louis gentlemanly politeness, it was so alluring to him.

He looked round and saw him there, resplendent in the court clothes Lestat had picked out himself. Louis had shown even less concern than normal with his attire, so Lestat had stepped in to take charge. It had been a good change to start choosing Louis clothes for him, in this time of difficulty, it was better for him not to be troubled with such trifles. And besides, Lestat loved to see these clothes on him, a white shirt with lacy ruffs at the neck, a tightly fitting riding jacket over the top, in a deep blue, and similarly tight fitting trousers and riding boots which contoured to Louis calves like a glove, and gleamed under the gentle lights.

Lestat eyes were so drawn to his handsome fledgling that he failed to notice the shorter figure at his side for some moments. Then the smile flickered off his face. Armand. He knew that Armand did not fully support Louis choice regarding recent events. He worried about him putting ideas into Louis head, deterring him from his course. He was an infuriating thorn in Lestat’s side to be sure. He noticed, however, that Louis looked calmer and more peaceful while walking there with Armand, than he had for some days. The smile returned to Lestat’s face. As long as he knew not to interfere, Lestat had no trouble with him speaking with Louis. It was good if it brought him comfort at this time. He did, however, interrupt their little conversation and whisk Louis off to Paris. Not driven in any small part by the jealousy of seeing the two together. They could enjoy each other’s company all they liked when Lestat was not around.

* * *

Lestat’s opinion on this matter changed however that evening. He and Louis were seated in their cosy little study, playing a game of chess. Louis was not doing very well and seemed distracted with something. Eventually, after another terrible move, Lestat sighed and sat back,

“Well? What is it? Out with it!” At the confused expression on Louis face, Lestat smiled wanly and leaned forward, “Come now Louis, you’ve been distracted all evening, what’s on your mind tonight?”

Lestat’s face looked so open, so caring, that Louis decided to jump. He watched Lestat’s features carefully as he related the feelings he had shared with Armand earlier in the evening. He glossed over some parts, leaving out his anger and not fully disclosing the depth of his disinterest in his hobbies, mainly focusing on the struggle he was having keeping it all up. He described the tired feeling and the strain he was under. Lestat’s face remained carefully impassive through the whole account. When Louis was finished, he rose and went to sit beside him on the couch.

“My dear Louis, why didn't you share this with me earlier?”

“I did not want to upset you Lestat. I did not want to go back on my promise.”

“Oh Louis,” Lestat drew him down closer to him so his head rested on his shoulder and he could put his arms around him in a tight embrace, “We knew it would be difficult, didn’t we? It seems to me that we must try harder, nay I must try harder. I’m sure there are ways this can be made easier for you.”

Louis stiffened slightly. Lestat seemed to have completely missed what he had been saying; it seemed he had not listened at all.

“Lestat…” He began a little uneasily.

“Hush now beautiful one,” Lestat stroked Louis unruly locks, “leave this one with me for now, I will see what I can think up. No one is giving up on you yet.”

Louis closed his eyes and felt the weight on his shoulders, temporarily lifted by his conversation with Armand, double. It pushed him down and held him on the couch so that all he could do was allow Lestat to hold him and whisper words of misguided comfort.

* * *

The next day, while Louis was away with David to hunt in Paris, Lestat called Armand into the council chambers.

He stood before the assembled council, not the full group. Lestat was there drumming his fingers on the table impatiently, eyes fixed on the far wall, with a look that seemed able to (and probably was able to) burn. Marius sat close to Lestat at the table, dressed in his traditional Roman robes of office, looking grim. Few other members were there, all looking a little perplexed, but patiently awaiting words from their prince on the nature of the meeting.

When Armand entered, he looked towards his usual chair at the table, but, based on the look Lestat had swung upon him, decided to stay standing near the entrance to the room. He felt like a criminal about to be sentenced, should I kneel? He thought wryly, and prepare my neck for the executioner’s axe?

“Come, Armand.” Marius, rising from the table, commanded. He suddenly reminded Armand so much of the master he had been in Venice, full of menacing authority. He still filled Armand with a desire to please him. It angered Armand greatly that Marius should still have so much control over his emotions, after all they had been through. Perhaps Benedict had been right about vampires created young, perhaps he would forever be the child, desperate for his master’s approval. Nevertheless, he moved into the room and stood at the end of the table. He bowed and murmured, “My Prince.” Trying, almost successfully, to keep the cynicism out of his voice.

“You have been summoned here today to address charges of disturbing the peace within the Chateau.” Marius intoned. Armand was shocked for a moment,

“And what is the nature of this disturbance, if I may be so bold as to ask?” He asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

“A complaint has been made by the vampire Louis de Pointe du Lac.” At this Armand visibly tensed, clenching his fists and tightening his jaw, but before he could speak, Marius continued.

“The nature of this complaint is that you have been harassing him and coercing him to go back on vows made to the Prince and to the Court regarding his retirement from court life. Due to the currently fragile state of the blood drinker in question, the council has ruled your behaviour towards him to be inappropriate and damaging.”

Armand stood in silent fury at these words. He was the problem? And what was this about Louis making a complaint. Armand did not want to believe this but his own deep-seated insecurities were worming their way to the surface. Perhaps he has been misreading Louis, theirs had always been a difficult relationship. But would he really have said these things to Lestat? Would he truly have lied and betrayed Armand’s trust? He didn’t want to give in to these thoughts. This must be some misunderstanding, it could surely be worked out.

“It is true that I have been trying to speak with Louis, these past weeks. It is also true that he has not welcomed my presence. I believe however, that this is not because he truly did not wish to speak with me but because he was scared of what he had to say. Scared of what it would mean. I spoke to him to help him.

Lestat sat up in his chair and glared down the table at Armand,

“You had no right to interfere in this matter, Armand. Louis made his decision, he made promises to me and to this court and you are trying to coerce him into betraying the trust of those around him. How can that be in his best interests? What makes you more qualified to know what his best for him than the rulers of this court?”

“Because the rulers of this court are blinded!” Armand’s anger was growing now, but he hoped that another attempt at reason might get through. He tried to make his tone reasonable “Have you truly looked at Louis? He is not well and he is not happy. Did he not speak with you? Tell you how he felt?

“Oh, he told me. He told me everything that you put in his head! He was fine before your little conversation, Armand. You threw him back down into depression, back to the start after we had made so much progress! This council finds you guilty of the stated offences and you shall be punished accordingly.”

Armand was too shocked to speak, how could Lestat be so blind? But his incredulousness was quickly shaping into anger. He should not be treated in this way. What exactly had Louis said to Lestat about their conversation?

“Have you anything to say?” Marius asked with a sense of finality.

“I do not think what I have to say would be acceptable to utter within our prince’s hearing.” Armand growled through bared teeth.

At these words, Lestat stood from his chair, blue eyes blazing with fire,

“By all means, Armand, speak freely within these walls.” He hissed.

“Fine, then hear this Lestat. You truly have not changed at all. It amazes me that after everything you have been through, after all that you have put Louis through and all he has put you through, that you have failed to learn anything! How can you be so blind? And so… so… stupid? Do you truly only see what you want to see? Louis deserves better than you. You and your selfish desires. You disgust me.” Armand spat the last words at Lestat and then stood straight, refusing to quail under his gaze. The fires in Lestat’s eyes now cooled to cold contempt and he sat down in his high backed chair.

“It was my wish that you integrate into this court as so many others have done, Armand. But your stubborn childish tendencies have made this impossible at the current time. You will leave here now, go to Trinity Gate and think there how you might best serve your Prince and this court, or you will never be welcome here again. You will cut off all contact with Louis, he does not wish to speak with you. You bring him only pain and confusion and make a hard task all the more difficult with your false comforts. We all know you would only hurt him as you did before.” Armand felt his anger quailing at Lestat’s words. He felt unexpected tears swelling at the corners of his eyes and willed them away, feeling contempt for himself and his weakness. He suddenly wanted more than ever to be Marius apprentice again. To not have to exist independently, but as someone’s ward; with someone to make decisions for him, someone for him to look up to and worship. But this traitorous feeling was quickly quelled by outraged, desperate anger, and instead of pleading eyes, he cast an accusing gaze at his maker, daring him to stand up and defy his precious brat prince. Marius caught his eyes for a moment, looking suddenly uncertain and inexorably sad. Then he cast his gaze to the floor and Lestat rose from his chair,

“Do not look to you Maker for help here, Armand. Get out now, before I ignore Marius’ requests and make your punishment more severe.”

Armand locked eyes with Lestat for one second more, determined to leave the room with some of his shredded dignity still intact. Then he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. As soon as he was out of earshot he fled, as fast as he possibly could, out of the chateau and into the night.

* * *

The next day, Louis sought out Armand again. He needed the comfort of his unbiased understanding more than anything. And he wanted to discuss Lestat’s reaction with him, perhaps together they could find a way to convey to his maker how he felt in a way that would make him understand. He searched high and low around the chateau but found no evidence of the boy. Finally, he ran into Marius outside of one of the many libraries.

“Ah Louis, how are feeling today?” Marius asked, in a slightly odd voice, Louis thought.

“Yes, Marius, fine thank you,” Louis said distractedly, “I was wondering if you know where Armand is, I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh yes,” Marius fiddled with the book he was carrying, “I believe he went back to Trinity Gate last night, he felt that he could better serve the court there.”

This troubled Louis greatly. He couldn’t quite believe that Armand would spend so long trying to talk with him and then just leave with no word the same day.

“I see, that’s odd of him, don’t you think? Not to let me know he was going?”

“Well, you never know with Armand, do you?” Marius tried to sound light-hearted, “I’ve been trying to understand him for five-hundred years! I’ll let you know when I figure him out. I think it’s likely he grew tired of court life, he seems to prefer a more independent lifestyle now. I’m sure he’ll be back at some time though. Anyway, you should focus on your own affairs, rather than Armand’s. Focus on getting better, we’re all here to support you, you know?”

Louis nodded and murmured some empty words before excusing himself and carrying on down the corridor. This was all very strange. He had never seen Marius act so shiftily before. He went to his rooms and hunted down the small plastic rectangle which was his phone. He hastily found Armand’s number in the contacts. The call rang and rang until eventually a computerised voice informed Louis that Armand was not available to take his call and he might leave a message. He suddenly felt very paranoid. If he left a message who might listen to it? Louis anxiously ended the call. He tried to cast this suspicious thought out of his head, but it stayed there, a parasite in his mind casting doubt over every friendly face. Something had happened, and he suspected it was due to the conversation he and Armand had had and then the ill-fated conversation he’d had with Lestat last night. He held his finger over the button which would call Armand again but something stopped him. Armand had left, but Louis did not think it had been willingly. So something, or someone, had forced Armand to leave. Louis hated the thought that it may have been their conversation which caused problems for Armand. He felt suddenly very selfish for trying to call or talk with Armand at all. He didn’t want to cause him any more trouble than he already had. He switched the phone screen off and stowed it back in the drawer, trying to cast the poisonous suspicions out of his mind.

* * *

Armand awoke in his crypt underneath Trinity Gate. He lay still, willing everything to simply go away. Slowly he became aware of the pulsating glow of his phone light informing him that he had a message. He flicked the screen on absently and found a notification for a missed call from Louis. He stopped his finger just as it was about to press the button to call Louis back. He stared at the screen and blood tears welled in his eyes again. He wanted so desperately to call back, but feared the consequences for them both. He tried to deny it, but he also felt a fear that Louis had in fact accused him of interfering and harassing him. He hated the weakness in his mind which allowed these unwelcome thoughts to enter. He held the phone tightly in his hand and curled around it. He lay there for a long time, in the empty house, so far from all those he held dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos or commented on the last chapter, it's been really encouraging!
> 
> Chapter 4 summary: We catch up with the Chateau's inhabitants one year later. How is Louis doing and what's that crashing sound?


	4. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with the vampires of the Chateau one year later.  
> How are Louis and Lestat doing and what is that crashing sound?

One year later…

Today was one of Louis bad days.

Lestat knew this because half an hour after he himself arose from his crypt, he heard things smashing. He rested his head in his hands and sighed. These types of days were hard to get through, and they had been happening more often of late. Thinking back, Lestat couldn’t really remember the last time there had been a truly good day, only not such bad days. He leafed through the papers on his desk and found the one he had received a few weeks ago from Fareed. It was rumpled and creased from much re-reading and indecision.

_Dear Lestat_

(Fareed never much cared for the pleasantries plastered over the other letters Lestat received, possibly due to the simple fact that he was so busy as to have no time for them)

_With regards to our previous conversation, I believe there are still a few avenues to follow. I know our previous attempts at medication were unsuccessful, but I believe there is still potential there. There is another option I wanted to share with you. A very excellent doctor I knew in life is now of the blood and has been for some time. Her name is Doctor Reid, she is ready to resume her work and I cannot recommend her enough. She is a doctor of the mind, something the vampire world sorely lacks, and I think she may be good for Louis.  
Think on this, my friend and do not be too quick to dismiss her._

_-Fareed_

Lestat rubbed his temples and sighed again. He was very reluctant to go down this route; the previous forays into psychiatric care, which Fareed had convinced him to pursue, had caused nothing but disaster. And he hated referring to it as such, Louis did not need a psychiatrist. It didn’t give Louis a good outlook on his situation, as though it was something inescapable, something wrong with him. He shook his head and buried the letter once again in the mounting pile of correspondence. No, they must just keep going, stay positive.

* * *

Louis life was now ruled by an obscene, aggravating, mind numbing routine; his days organised out into activities, of which he had no interest, slotted into a repetitive timetable. Like some strange ritual, the meaning behind the individual actions had long been forgotten. But here he was performing them again and again. Wasn’t the definition of insanity performing the same action over and over again and expecting different results? Well, Louis no longer expected anything, except that when he finally retired to his coffin in the morning, he would rise from it again the next evening and start over again.

It began exactly thirty minutes after Lestat arose from his rest. Louis could not recall when that had been decided, it probably had been decided by those other than himself.

At first the routine had been that the lid of his coffin was drawn back by either Cyril or Thorne (whoever’s unfortunate turn it was to baby-sit him that day). He would then be invited to rise and begin his day. For the first few months it had happened so. Then one day he could no longer rise from his coffin; the oppression of the day looming ahead of him had physically pressed him down to the satin lining.

Then the routine had changed. At exactly thirty minutes after Lestat arose from his rest, the lid of Louis coffin would be thrown back and he would be removed from it, placed on his feet and forced out of the room to begin his day.

Next, he would dress, in clothes selected by Lestat. At first, his minder for the day would wait in the small vestibule outside of the dressing chamber in which he dressed himself. But that was no longer permitted; too many times, Thorne or Cyril had had to enter the room after a long period of hearing nothing and find Louis sitting on the couch, his mind far away, still wearing his rumpled clothes from his coffin, the fresh set untouched.

Once he was dressed, he was fed. This was a particularly painful event, one of the most dreaded parts of the day. The feeling of fear from the victim, the swoon, the pleasure, it was all too much for Louis. It overwhelmed his senses, made his brain scream. Anything too bright, too colourful, too stimulating made him feel this way, he turned his head now from bright brass buttons, from paintings, from lights. His senses overwhelmed; his mind unable to cope. It had crept on him slowly over the first few months, a shadow over his thoughts at first, growing ever stronger. And now he must be supervised to feed, he had always disliked his hunts being watched by others, and when he had allowed it, it had been his choice because he wanted it. Now it was not within his control.

It had been decided that Louis must take one victim a day, to maintain his strength. He remembered the first day he had refused, simply trying to leave the room he had been taken to in order to feed. It had been Thorne that day and the large vampire had blocked the doorway. When Louis had continued to try to leave, Thorne had turned him round with his superior strength and pushed him to sit on a bench at the side of the room. He had then opened his phone and begun dialling Lestat’s number. A panic had gripped Louis’ chest, for some reason he could think of nothing worse than Lestat coming down and speaking to him, in front of Thorne, in front of his unfortunate victim. For he knew that he could not resist Lestat, he did not want others to see that weakness, and even more, he did not want to face that weakness himself and know without a doubt that it was there.

“No wait!” Louis had demanded, “Please, don’t call Lestat, please, I’ll do it!”

Thorne had flipped his phone shut and gestured to the victim, bound and gagged on the floor of the room.

It had taken a few weeks for Louis to refuse again, this time the threat of Lestat being called did not change his mind, he could no longer bear it and he was sure Lestat could not convince him otherwise. Lestat rushed down to the dungeons and into the room where Louis waited for his chastisement. He knelt in front of Louis and held his long fingered hands in his own.

“Louis my love, look at me,” Louis raised his shadowed eyes to look into Lestat’s and he felt himself bending, “please drink, for me?” Lestat murmured, looking up at Louis with such loving care that Louis thought he may begin to sob. Before he knew what was happening, he was feeding from the victim, Lestat supporting the rapidly dying man with his arms as he drank.

“Well done, darling one,” Lestat whispered once it was over, “You are doing so well.” Louis felt suddenly like a child, refusing to obey his nanny so that mother had to be called. He was so ashamed that he couldn’t meet Lestat’s eyes or Thorne’s eyes for the rest of the night. A part of him wilted and died away inside him, a part of his pride. His mind whispered to him how pathetic he was, and he could not find it within himself to disagree. It went on like this for a while, Louis refusing and Lestat being called. Louis feeling like a stubborn, wilful, pathetic child after every event. Eventually though, the council decided that Lestat could no longer spare the time consumed by these interruptions so Lestat no longer came when Louis had a “tantrum”.

Instead, Cyril simply informed him that they did not leave the room until the victim was dead. Louis considered this for a while, then he went over and ripped the man’s throat right out of his body. It slumped over, blood spurting and pouring out of the body onto the floor. Cyril impassively took out his phone and mashed out a message before placing it back in his pocket and waiting, expressionlessly. Louis looked down and saw the pool of blood spreading around his feet and briefly considered moving. But then decided that he really didn’t care and let the blood soak into his (probably expensive) leather shoes. A few minutes of silence. Louis watched the blood slowly pool around and soak into his shoes. Cyril gazed at the far wall. Then there was a knock at the door and a disgruntled attendant thrust a bound human into the room. Cyril pushed him over to where Louis stood and then resumed his position. Louis had given in after the one wasted victim that night. The next night it was two, then three. After the night he killed five people before giving in, he stopped the game, realising that it was only more painful for him.

He tried drinking the smallest amount of blood possible so that the human was sure to die, but it spared him a few minutes of intolerable feeding. The response of his bodyguards to this was to march over, break the neck of the victim and bring another. That stopped that game pretty quickly.

Louis knew when they started to drug the victims with some sort of medication. The blood tasted different and afterwards the world seemed a dulled place. That suited him just fine and for a time he willingly took his victims for the sweet release of numbness. He would drift through his days, not touched by the harsh annoyances and poisonous thoughts as he had been. But this change was noticed by Lestat, who felt that it was causing him to regress, so the drugs were cut off.

Next, they must have tried some kind of stimulant to urge him to be more energetic and stop his phasing out. It only served to make him jittery, his hands constantly shivering and shaking and trying to grab things which weren’t there. That was when he had first started to break things. He remembered clearly the first time. He had been standing in some parlour or drawing room or similar in the Chateau. There was a large lamp with the most beautiful glass shade with the shapes of flowers and butterflies worked into the design. Louis had been staring at it for some time, his bodyguards distracted with something else for a minute. His hands jittered as he gazed upon it. The bright lights and colours were flashing in his addled brain. It pulsed and fizzed, his eyes throbbing in his skull. Suddenly he was filled with such hatred of the object, of how it sat there, so pretty and so useless, in the corner of this massive house, so full of similar beautiful pointless things. His ears were filled with the noise of hundreds of blood drinkers through the chateau, his now incredibly strong preternatural hearing allowing his no escape from the innumerable sounds of talking, music, footsteps, clacking of computer keyboards. The lights in his head were reaching a crescendo, almost seeming to form into sound as well, a long painful screech. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t bear to see it squatting in front of him for one more second. So, he had reached out his long shaking hands and pushed it, almost gently, with only a fraction of his full strength, throwing it off the side table and making a deafening, horrible crash on the ground.

His bodyguard had called Lestat and there had been a great fuss. Through it all Louis just sat, staring at his jittering hands, saying nothing and thinking how good it had felt to break it. The drugs had been stopped immediately after the incident, but the breaking continued. Louis no longer cared how juvenile it seemed, he no longer spared any thought for these things. The terrible thoughts about his own pathetic worthlessness would be there anyway, why not prove them true? Sometimes, when it became too much, he had to break something. He had found that Lestat and the other members of the council had not managed to find a good solution to make him stop, apart from Lestat pleading with him after every ‘incident’, something he had given up on some time ago. Now Louis body guards just avoided the rooms with the more valuable items in them, but Louis could generally find something to break, when he had to, there were endless, useless, frivolous objects in the long halls and receptions rooms of the chateau.

After he fed, he was escorted to the gardens to ‘take some air’, a well-established treatment for any illness, mental, physical or imagined. He was delivered into the care of some other blood drinker for an hour or so. He presumed, so Cyril and Thorne could escape to feed or bash their heads against a wall in frustration. Often it was Marius who walked with him around the garden, arms linked, the picture of wholesome convalescence. Marius would talk aimlessly about some trivial matter or another. Louis had perfected the art of speaking just enough so that no fuss was made, but not enough that he actually had to listen or engage in the conversation. He now had a litany of empty responses which could be slotted thoughtlessly into almost any conversation. He would offer one of these at regular intervals and Marius would leave him alone to a certain extent.

He walked occasionally with other blood drinkers, Sevraine, Gregory, David, even Gabrielle, though she had only volunteered once, looking quite disturbed by the whole experience. Louis prayed for the days when Pandora would walk him around the garden. Pandora, mistress of sadness and melancholy, looked upon him with the only understanding eyes in the Chateau, and she demanded nothing from him. They would just walk in silence, both of their thoughts off somewhere far from themselves, as content as they could be for a short while. And afterwards, she would place two light kisses, one on each of his cheeks, it gave him a little strength and the rest of that day would not seem so terribly lonely. But it did not happen often; only when no one else could be found, was she permitted to walk with him.

Once the walk was done, Louis would be deposited in some room for that night’s entertainment. They used to ask him what he wanted to see: a film, an opera or perhaps a concert from the Chateau’s own musicians. But since it mattered little to him which torture he should endure, the ‘entertainment’ was now selected for him. He would sit with Thorne or Cyril by his side for the full two or three hours. Sometimes he managed to retreat into the relative sanctuary of his inner thoughts and try to fade away for a while, but this sort of zoning out was not looked upon kindly by his minders, and he would often be jostled back to attention. There could be no respite for him.

After the interminable performance had ended, he would be brought to his feet and marched upstairs to the study which he shared with Lestat, the quiet sanctuary he had once enjoyed with his books and fireplace, in the company of his beloved. What a twisted parody the experience was now. He would sit in the chair opposite Lestat, a book (of someone else’s choosing) in his hands. Every few minutes he would turn the page, it had become a reflex, so he no longer thought about it. He would sit there staring down at the words he could not bring himself to read and hateful thoughts would float around and around in his head. How he loathed Lestat now, he would glance up and the sight of his bright blonde hair would make his hands twist and crumple the pages. He wanted to hurt Lestat, to grab his bright locks and pull them out by the roots, to scratch and claw him, to grip him by his pale neck and watch him squirm. He was the puppet master behind Louis torture, he pulled the strings and watched them all dance. But then Lestat would glance up from his own book, lock eyes with Louis and smile such a dazzlingly warm smile. And Louis would melt in it. His love outshining his crippling anger and hate. And somehow, as soon as Lestat looked back to his book, he hated Lestat all the more. It was a wise man indeed who said that love and hate are two sides of the same coin.

After the reading was done Louis would be taken down to his coffin and finally left alone. This was the only part of the day he looked forward to. And it was always overshadowed by the thought that when he closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep, he would only awaken and start all over again. He felt as though the past months had been a steady trudge through some barren wilderness and with every passing day, he stepped closer and closer to a cliff, his final destination. He knew he was nearing the edge.

* * *

Lestat was running a little late for his time with Louis. The council had been arguing over a bill regarding controlling crime in the general vampire population and had run over time. Lestat hurried around a corner and up one of the chateaus many spiral staircases, his bright polished shoes clacking on every step. He enjoyed these hours he spent with Louis. He thought they were probably a welcome respite for his fledgling, who so loved to read. And it was time just for them. The council seemed to eat more and more into Lestat’s hours, and with Louis in his current state, they no longer found the same time to be together. And even when they did, it was not the same.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he reached the landing of the floor his and Louis’ study was on. He could hear a distant sound of thudding and Cyril’s voice, getting steadily louder, which had before been hidden in the general din of the Chateau. Lestat rushed now, with all of his preternatural strength and reached the door within seconds. He pushed it open, and found carnage.

All of his and Louis carefully kept and organised books were scattered about the room, huge chunks of paper lying where they had been ripped out. Lestat sank to his knees, in the doorway, and with shaking hands, picked up a clump of pages lying near the door like it was a wounded and dying animal. He clutched it to his breast and looked up in horror and anger at the scene before him, searching for the source of this terrible destruction. The carefully selected and placed armchairs for Louis and himself had been flung across the small room, one colliding with a bookcase, splintering it and scattering the shelves’ contents across the floor. The other had smashed into the window, flinging shards of glass amongst the broken bodies of the books. A cold and wet wind blew through the broken panes and whipped against the exposed pages. One bookshelf had been overturned, the wall was cracked and the tools for making and stirring the fire had been tossed, coating part of the room in ashes and soot. Cyril stood, pale faced and shocked near the door, claw marks glaring red across his face, now looking very anxiously at Lestat. But Lestat was not looking at Cyril, his eyes were locked on the figure in the centre of the room. Louis. His clawed hands raking though the pages of a thick tome, he did not look at Lestat, his eyes looked only at the book he was quickly destroying. His face, twisted by such uncharacteristic anger and contempt, it made Lestat’s heart jolt in his chest. Lestat’s anger at the mindless slaughter of so many precious books was replaced with a deep despair as he looked upon his fledgling. What had happened to his reticent, sincere child? When had he become this monster?

“Louis?” Lestat began, he received no response from the crazed vampire, who flung the gutted hide of the book into the fireplace and grabbed three more off a side table. One was a very expensive and rare first print of ‘War and Peace’, a gift from Lestat when Louis had officially moved into the Chateau with him.

“Louis!” Lestat said, more sharply this time as he rushed to save the precious book.

He tried to pry the book from Louis long fingers, but he would not yield. As Lestat continued, pulling harder and harder, Louis finally looked up into Lestat’s eyes and… growled. Lestat was so shocked that he immediately let go of the volume they were fighting over. Louis made quick work of it. And soon the irreplaceable gift was scattered across the room with the others. Lestat fell onto the ground near the door and found he could not move. His brain was betraying him. He could only sit silent and shocked and watch as gentle, beautiful Louis destroyed their inner sanctum, a place he had treasured above all others. And with every book that Louis destroyed, Lestat felt his own heart being clawed.

Soon others came, Marius and Thorne and other members of the council. Lestat hardly registered their frantic questions, just staring in shock. Marius managed to restrain Louis. As soon as he had a grip on him, all of the savage energy left Louis. He sagged into Marius’ grip and they took him away, Lestat didn’t ask where. He sat there alone for the rest of the night, the others being wise enough to know not to disturb him, until morning’s deadly rays drove him to his crypt and his anxious rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry its been a while since the last chapter, life got in the way, as it sometimes does. I know this chapter is a little different than the others. I thought about taking the story in a couple of different directions but this is the one it wanted to go down so I hope you guys enjoyed it!


	5. Decisions

“Something must be done, Lestat.”

This, from Gregory, echoing the sentiments of the other council members who had spoken already. They directed their words to their Prince, who sat at the head of the council table, mute and unresponsive, staring fixedly at the far wall. Every seat was filled except one, seemingly more prominent for its emptiness, Armand’s chair. There had been no-one to fill it, and actually removing him from the council did not meet with the official story that he had gone to Trinity Gate to help relations with blood drinkers in America. So, the chair sat, a watchful sentinel, seeming to judge the scene before it.

All of the council members looked awkwardly away. They had so far managed to avoid this topic, but the events of the previous night had now made it impossible.

“Lestat, please, you cannot ignore this. He has become a danger to himself and to the rest of the chateau.”

At these words, Lestat stirred slightly and he quietly scoffed, “And what could he do? He’s not capable of anything serious.” His words came out in well-practised disdain, a habit when speaking of his lover’s abilities.

“Just because Louis-”, at mention of the name, Lestat visibly flinched, but Gregory continued regardless, “-does not choose to use his powers does not mean he lacks them. In fact, it makes him all the more dangerous, because we cannot know the true extent of them. He has had a large amount of your blood, Prince, he is likely almost as strong as an Old One.” Gregory gestured around the table to the assembled blood drinkers, most of whom could boast an age well over two thousand years. “What if last night he had employed flames to aid him? I do not like to bring it up, but Louis does have somewhat of a history with such things. And it is likely now he could summon it at will.”

“And what would you have me do?” Lestat whispered. “Send him away? Cast him out? Lock him up? Imprison my own l-?” His voice cracked. His voice had not gotten any louder, but a dangerous harshness had crept into it, and put the other members of the council on edge.

“We cannot tell you what to do in this case, Lestat,” Sevraine spoke up, breaking the tense silence, “He is your fledgling and your consort as well as a subject of this court. He stands in a unique position and must be handled in a unique way. Only you can decide what must be done. But this council is saying that we will no longer stand by and allow the situation to continue as it has been. Monsieur de Pointe du Lac has proven himself to be unstable and destructive. The safety of this court and your own safety must come before your feelings.”

The other council members seemed relieved that Sevraine had finally been brave enough to voice, clearly, what they had all been thinking. This relief quickly dissipated though. Her reasonable words seemed to have little effect on the Prince. He sat in his chair, fingers steepled, gazing at something far beyond the wall his eyes rested on. After a period of heavy silence, he spoke up,

“I wish to see him, take me to him.” This, he addressed to Marius who sat by his left side, uncharacteristically quiet through the proceedings.

“As you wish.” Marius spoke in a flat voice. They rose and left the council in unhappy silence.

* * *

They descended deep into the roots of the chateau, past the levels which held the unfortunate victims and deeper still. Down in the deep rock of the hill the chateau had been built upon, they had constructed several cells. They had done this after the problems they had had with Rhoshmandes, in the event that they ever had to contain a very powerful blood drinker. The strength of the metal walls had been tested by the oldest amongst them. The cells were plated with this metal on three sides, the final side fitted with bullet proof, fire proof, pretty much everything-proof glass, shot through with strong metal wire of a composition some scientist friend of Fareed’s had cooked up in a very secret lab somewhere. In other words, it was pretty much impenetrable.

Marius solemnly led Lestat down the corridor and stopped at the first cell. Through the wire crossed glass they could see a small room, carpeted in black, the metal walls an unoffensive matte finish. In the room stood only a metal chair and a low metal bed with a thin mattress and grey, woollen blanket. On top of this blanket, with his curly black locks resting on the one flat pillow, was Louis, eyes closed, seemingly asleep.

Marius watched as Lestat stepped up to the glass and moved to rest a hand on it. A flicker of harsh emotion crossed his neutral features for a second and he snatched his hand away quickly before turning sharply to Marius,

“What the Hell is this, Marius?” Lestat thundered, his famous temper rising suddenly like a tidal wave, Marius felt himself stepping back, despite himself, he had not often feared Lestat, but there was a wild look in his eyes now. “Everything we’ve worked for is going to shit! He’s in there, completely unsupervised, no stimulation, how is he supposed to fight the call of sleep if you give him nothing to do?!” He turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor, throwing back a shouted, “Play some fucking Beethoven or something, make it loud!” Before going up the stairs and away.

Marius watched him go, in a state of shock, a dread creeping over him. Why did he always do this? Why did he ever speak as if he knew what he was talking about? He had given Lestat poor council. He knew, he _knew,_ that when it came to Louis, Lestat could not be reasonable, and still, he had put him on this course. He rubbed his weary face with his hands as he stood alone in the corridor.

He supposed though, that had been the reasoning behind his initial choices. If Lestat could not be rational about Louis then Louis could not be allowed to leave, it would have put Lestat on a downwards spiral into his periodic depression and impulsiveness. Those periods had almost always been a direct response to Louis spurning him in some way or another. But this? Marius thought as he looked at the prone figure in the cell. He could see the haggard, shadowed cast to Louis face under the harsh electric lighting. This was so wrong.

As he had seen Louis struggling more and more over the past few weeks, he had known that the ‘treatment’ had not been working, Louis had been building up to something for months. He had hoped that Lestat might come to the same conclusion on his own, it was the only way this could be resolved. But Lestat seemed more blind than ever, so sure was he of how the world could and should be. And so sure that he could make it so if he just pretended hard enough.

Marius had always thought that the picture painted by Louis memoir must be too harsh to be true. Now he saw the raw truth of it. That it was probably a romanticised version of what had happened, written after the true pain of everything Lestat had unknowingly put Louis through had dulled with time and grief. The way Lestat was with Louis was not healthy, it was verging on obsession, but at the same time Lestat seemed incapable of seeing how his actions affected his poor fledgling. Lestat was like a child, with a favourite doll that he dragged around, carelessly abusing it. Then crying when the toy broke because he hadn’t realised how much he loved and depended on it.

And what was he to do now? He had seen that look in Lestat’s eyes, he had smelled it on him. Something he had seen in countless other blood drinkers before. Lestat was unravelling. Marius was not sure he could be reasoned with anymore.

He turned to the glass and sighed as he looked upon the sleeping figure of Louis, finally getting some peace. “Why couldn’t I just have kept out of it?” Marius asked himself, before moving off down the corridor to find some young blood drinker worker who could turn the speakers on in Louis cell and continue his torture.

* * *

Lestat rushed through the chateau, knocking over furniture and crashing doors as he went. The other vampires milling around in the halls and reception rooms scampered out of his way, watching with fearful eyes as he passed and falling into timid but excitable whispering after he was gone.

When he finally reached his quarters, he slammed the door behind him and fell back onto it, sliding down until he sat on the floor with long legs sprawled before him. He sat there for a long moment, a complete absence of feeling filling him up like a void. Then, a flash, as he remembered seeing Louis lying there, prone. He drew his legs into him and hugged them like a child as the tears began to roll, red and thick down his face. He could remember clearly the horrible dread hitting him when he had looked upon his fledgling. The horrible feeling of impending loss.

When he had seen Louis lying there, as though he were dead, the true fear of losing him, which had not been with him since Louis promised not to give into the pull of the long sleep, had returned. Like a terrible monster, catching his scent in a moment of weakness and chasing him down, it had crashed onto him and swept him away so that he was not even sure what he had said to Marius, only that he had been seeing red when he said it. This feeling was all too familiar from their early days together. When Louis was so weak that it seemed a strong gust of wind might have carried him away from Lestat forever. 

He felt as though all he must do was reach forwards, and Louis would catch his arm and pull him into an embrace. He would hold him with his gentle, strong arms and whisper to him in his reserved voice, full of secret power. And Lestat would be his again and he would be Lestat’s. Then he would lean back and Lestat would be absorbed into his emerald eyes, glittering with some secret amusement, a wan smile playing on his lips.

Lestat opened his eyes from this beautiful dream but saw only his empty room before him, now seeming so pointlessly and hopelessly frivolous that he wished he could burn it all down. His heart ached to know that the dream was so far away as to not even be touchable. And they had come so close. For the first time in a hundred years, longer! For the first time since that wonderful night when Louis had given himself over to Lestat fully and to the blood, they had truly been close to everything Lestat had ever hoped and dreamed to have with Louis. For the first time there had been no barriers, no lies, no resentments. Only each other and eternity to be together.

Lestat felt a great wave of anger directed at Louis. Why did he have to do this? When he had been turned, they had had everything. The plantation house, beautiful in its slightly musty grandeur, money, opportunity, connections. And each other. There had been no-one else then to get between them. But Louis had chosen despair over happiness with him and had not even spared one thought for all that he was depriving Lestat of. So selfish, he kept even his sadness to himself, not allowing anyone else to share in it or feel it. And then the brief fleeting moment of opportunity had passed, and the following years rushed by in a flurry of benign neglect. So many opportunities which were not grasped or even acknowledged. So much time lost, never to be regained.

And now the future stretched before Lestat, devoid of the one he wanted and needed most truly. The anger passed and was gone, like a leaf caught up in a stream and quickly carried away. Louis… my Louis… I need you. And with that he wept into his hands like the lost child he was.

* * *

The next day, Lestat settled into the plush velvet chair at his desk. He was dressed pristinely, without a hair out of place. He picked up the stack of papers on his desk and drew a small crumpled letter out of the pile. He picked up his pen, drew out a thick sheet of vellum and fluidly wrote a letter. This he carefully blotted and folded before placing it in an envelope. On the front he wrote in a careful, elegant hand, ‘ _Dr Fareed Bhansali’._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on this being a chapter in the story and I apologise if it seems just like a 'bridging' chapter, but I realised, when I tried to write the next stage of the story, that there needed to be this little bit of set up, so here you go! I hope you enjoyed anyway.   
> Next time there will be some deep emotional therapy stuff. If I can manage to write something deep and emotional, we'll see...


	6. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Louis gets a small respite and Marius tries to right some wrongs.

They entered the modern building which was part of Fareed’s science complex. Lestat did not particularly like the furnishings, it was very much function over style, when he had always swung the other way entirely. But he could see a certain refinement to the clean lies and minimalist design. At his side was Louis, dressed in one of his finer outfits. Lestat stopped to admire the shape of his fledgling, but the moment was overshadowed by the circumstances and the dread he now felt whenever he looked at Louis. He could no longer ignore the harsh lines drawn in Louis face or the bloodshot tinge to his beautiful eyes. He reached down suddenly and clasped Louis hand in his own, bringing it up to his chest in a desperate need for reassurance. Louis started at the contact and looked to Lestat. For a second Lestat saw the real Louis, clear and intelligent peeking out through the haze of his depression.

“Everything will be okay.” Louis said in _his_ voice. Not the strained, faded wraith which had been whispering from Louis mouth for so long.

This sudden change in Louis shocked Lestat so much that he said nothing more, only wordlessly led Louis by the hand to the elevators. The doors shushed gently closed, leaving them alone in the chrome metal box, mirrors on all side, reflecting their pale faces back at them, Lestat’s uncharacteristically worried and Louis’ blank and expressionless.

They stepped out of the elevator at the third floor and made their way to a small office bearing a name plate, “Dr Reid” in clear crisp writing. Lestat raised his hand to knock. For a second he considered just taking Louis by the hand and whisking him away, but his mind overtook his heart and he knocked three times, sharply and loudly.

There was a bustle inside the room. Odd, thought Lestat, few of the undead rustled when they moved. More often than not they tended to waft through the world as though not actually touching it. It reminded him of Louis in the early days before he had taken the powerful blood from Lestat, when he had still been more human than any of them. He had retained some of that even after his transformation. He still tended to scuff his shoes as he walked and read at almost the same pace as a well-read mortal, though somehow he managed to finish three books in the time it took Lestat to finish one.

The door was suddenly opened and Lestat got his first glimpse of Dr Reid. The first thing he noticed was her height, she stood well below Lestat’s shoulder. And she was made to seem smaller still by her stout frame. The word which sprang to Lestat’s mind was motherly. She must have been in her late forties, early fifties when she was turned and there were a few strands of grey in her dark bouncy locks, allowed to roam freely about her head, their only restraint was the pair of bright red glasses resting atop her head. She must be new to the blood indeed, thought Lestat, to not have cast off this now pointless mortal trinket. He had never known a blood drinker who required glasses to see, the blood had surely fixed whatever flaw there was in her eyes. Perhaps just a habit then, or perhaps she had just never thought about it.

This was a new kind of blood drinker which had appeared with the rise of Fareed in the vampire world. When before, mortals had been chosen based on beauty or charm alone, now some were chosen for their intellect. And Lestat had found that sometimes these incredibly smart individuals seemed oblivious to the simpler things in life. Like realising you no longer required your glasses, or that they were even still on the end of your nose.

She peered at them for a second and then, “Oh, you must be Monsieur de Pointe du Lac I presume? And Monsieur de Lioncourt as well? Please do come in.” And with that rather unceremonial greeting she went back into her room and started searching around for something. Lestat stood for a second in the doorway. What way was that to speak to your prince and from such a young blood drinker as well? She hadn’t even stopped for a second in awe of him and his many charms, or for that matter those of his beautiful fledgling. He felt he had been right about this whole affair and that it was doomed before it began. But, he sighed internally, they were here now and if he did not do this, he would have more trouble with the council. Better to do it once, get it over with and then be done with it.

He entered the room, ushering Louis in after him and then closed the door himself, with a pointed look in the doctor’s direction, who had now found what she had been looking for, a large black notebook and pen, and was settling down in a simple grey armchair. Lestat walked rather huffily over the long couch opposite the doctor’s chair and said in a slightly petulant manner,

“I presume it is okay for me and my companion to be seated.”

“Oh yes,” the doctor confirmed, seemingly oblivious to Lestat’s tone, “wherever you like.”

Lestat made a great show of settling himself down in the couch. Louis slowly lowered himself to sit beside Lestat, his hands in his lap and his gaze turned downwards. He hadn’t said much about this trip. Lestat had broken it to him gently the night before, expecting some kind of negative reaction. But Louis had just looked at him, muttered a quiet, “whatever you think is best,” And then went back to staring out of the window. This was pretty much all Louis had done in the few nights since the incident. He had spent one night in the cells and then been moved back to his own private quarters. He had not been permitted to leave and mix with the general population, but Lestat had ensured that he was kept suitably busy for the whole night.

“So, can I start by asking the nature of your relationship?” The doctor asked bluntly.

Lestat was speechless for a moment in shock at the presumption of this question. For this mere fledgling to ask so personal a question was beyond disrespectful. And also, Lestat realised, he was not used to people having to ask anything about his life, it was all written down in black and white for anyone (and everyone, preferably) to read. Louis stirred slightly beside Lestat, he thought he must be mistaken but it seemed that Louis had muttered a huff of amusement.

“I hardly think that will be necessary.” Lestat said in his most pompous voice.

“I see,” The doctor said, pushing her glasses back up her nose, “It is important for me to know going forward, the nature of your relationship to Monseuir de Pointe du Lac. It seems to have been your decision which has brought you both here today, but for this to work, it must be he who is my patient. I’m not a couples counsellor.” This she said with a slight quirk to the corner of her mouth and a tilt of the head. Lestat decided the wiser course was to say nothing. He stared at the doctor, anger rising in his throat.

A jolt went through him as a hand touched his knee. He looked in surprise to see it belonged to Louis. He looked him straight in the eye and gave his knee a slight squeeze. Their hands moved simultaneously together so that Lestat was now holding Louis hand in his own and they were resting on his knee. Lestat didn’t need Louis to voice his thoughts, he was asking Lestat to be patient and to hold his temper. It did the trick and Lestat visibly relaxed, took a deep breath and tried to start again,

“We are here, for my companion Louis. He has been having some problems of late, I’m sure Fareed has shared these with you, and we needn’t go into it now. There have been some recent developments and… well, I suppose we need some help.” He had to force those last words out in a rush and if he hadn’t had the strength of Louis’ hand in his, he wasn’t sure he could have said it at all.

The doctor smiled and seemed genuinely happy at Lestat’s words.

“Well, I’m so glad you came and sought help, I will do everything I can for you.” This she directed in Louis direction, “Thank you so much, Monsieur de Lioncourt for bringing your friend with you today, but if you don’t mind, I must now continue the session with Monsieur de Pointe du Lac alone.”

And it had been going so well. Lestat was on his feet before he knew what he was doing,

“Now you look here, you little upstart! Don’t you go telling-” But his tirade was stopped once again by Louis, who rose and took Lestat’s arm. This time he employed words,

“Please, Lestat.” That was all he said, but it made Lestat deflate. He nodded to Louis and held onto his hand for a second,

“As you wish, my love, I will be just outside.” And with that he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, closing the door with no little effort, causing it to bang loudly on its hinges. He spared not a second glance for the doctor.

When Lestat was gone, Louis sighed and dropped back onto the couch, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Thank you for that, Monsieur de Pointe du Lac. May I call you Louis?” Louis nodded almost imperceptibly, “Thank you,” the doctor said quite sincerely, “I must admit, all of these long names are quite difficult, it makes it sound like an essay every time you speak to someone. We may speak freely now. Dr Fareed assures me that these walls are soundproofed even from a very powerful blood drinker” Louis did not respond to this. He could feel the depression weighing on him again like a heavy blanket. He saw little point in this, nothing this woman could say would change his situation and from Lestat’s actions it was clear he wouldn’t let it continue for long, even if it did help. But soon, the growing silence in the room forced his manners to take hold. Even through the haze of madness, Louis must always be polite.

“I apologise on behalf of Lestat,” Louis began in a small voice, “He feels emotions very strongly and is not always in a mind to control them.”

The doctor waved this away, “Believe me, I have seen and been called much worse. People always assume it must be the patients I have trouble with, but it is almost always the family and loved ones.”

Louis looked up in surprise at this. He had never considered that his situation may be similar to others, it seemed his life was so far beyond normal that no one could relate.

“Now, Louis, I want to ask you one important question, and it is possible that you may not have the answer right now, but I would like you to think on it. What do you want to get out of our sessions here?”

“I am here because Lestat brought me here.” Was all Louis could think to say.

The doctor nodded and held Louis eye with a compassionate and sincere expression,

“I understand that. And if all you would like out of these sessions is to placate Lestat, then that is alright. You may sit here in silence, you may sleep on the seat, I can play music, or we can just chat of idle things. If that is what you wish.”

Louis felt an almost visceral pain and hunger at her words, shadowed by a sudden wave of distrust. It was like delicious bait being dangled in front of his eyes, he wanted to reach for it, but feared deceit. And for it to be snatched away at the last moment would prove even more painful.

“And if you ever wish to discuss anything else with me, then I will be here and ready to listen, we can speak of anything you like, you need only ask.”

Louis was silent for a long time, simply staring at the doctor. She stared back, but every so often she would make a very human gesture, blinking, brushing the hair from her face, readjusting her glasses. She seemed so unthreatening that Louis could not really believe she would deceive him.

“If it is alright, I would very much like to just lie here and do nothing.”

The doctor smiled, “Of course, I will go over to my desk and finish up some work so as not to disturb you. If I may though, before I go, is there anything I can get for you for the next session, if you want to do another session, to make you more comfortable. It can be anything at all.”

Louis shook his head, his instinctive response to someone, usually Lestat, asking him to name something he wanted.

“That’s fine, if you do think of anything though, do let me know.” And with that she stood and retreated to her desk. It was placed in such a way that when she sat there it seemed as if Louis was in a private room, alone. Truly alone, as was only permitted in the minutes leading up to the dawn taking him. He sighed and leaned back against the dark grey cushions. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the silence around him and the soft furniture beneath him. After a while he began to notice a tugging around his middle, he shuffled and rearranged himself and the tugging transferred itself to under his arms. Annoyed, he realised it was he constricting court finery Lestat had dressed him in that morning. He’d ceased to notice the clothes he wore, simply donning them in the evening like an automated machine. He loosened some buttons of his shirt and managed to find a comfortable position. He lay there in a tranquil daze for the next hour, feeling more at peace than he had done for so long.

When their time was up, the doctor began moving papers around on her desk a little more noisily, giving her patient time to rouse himself and sit up, before re-joining him in the main part of the room.

“Thank you, Louis, for coming today, I hope this has helped you. Please consider my question some more and see truly what you answer is. I do hope to see you again?”

Louis nodded, feeling slightly better than he had when he had arisen that evening. Not a lot better, but a tiny bit.

“Thank you,” He managed to say, “and… I have thought of something I might like if I come again. Do you think you could get me some different clothes? Just something very simple and comfortable?”

The doctor nodded, “I know exactly what you mean.” She said sincerely, making Louis forget his worries that she might think this a funny request.

“Goodbye for now.” And with that she opened the door and Louis exited. He found Lestat pacing restlessly in the hallway. He suspected he hadn’t expected the room to be soundproofed and was trying to hold back his annoyance for Louis’ sake.

“Well, how did it go? What did she say?” Lestat continued to barrage Louis with questions as they re-entered the elevator and made their way to the car park. Lestat had taken to driving about again in impractical cars. He said it was because he enjoyed the action of driving, but Louis suspected it was just an excuse to buy a lot of expensive, sleek cars.

On the drive back, Lestat subsided into an anxious silence, repeatedly glancing over at Louis in the passenger seat as he was driving. Louis sat, quiet, but in a more peaceful way than he had in a long time, watching the lights of the city rush by, flashing onto his pale face for a second, on and on in a hypnotic pattern. Soon they passed into the countryside and all that could be heard in the car was the soft rushing of the wheels on the tarmac.

* * *

Almost as soon as they arrived back at the chateau, Lestat disappeared off on some “important business”, leaving Louis with Thorne in their apartments. Louis was no longer permitted time in the rest of the chateau, which did not bother him in the slightest, but the compromise was that there was always music playing at just above a comfortable volume and Louis was expected to _do_ things with his time. While Lestat was away, Louis selected a random book from the shelf and began his carefully rehearsed “reading” in which he turned the pages of the book at the appropriate times and allowed himself time to think.

What did he want? The words of the therapist echoed in his head. It recalled to his clouded mind the words of another. Armand. The particulars of their conversations months ago were blurred now to Louis. Something had happened and Armand had left him, left him here to this fate. Was that what had happened? He didn’t know particularly why this was the truth his mind was offering up to him, he couldn’t remember the details of what had happened. But he remembered Armand saying that. What is it that _you_ want?

What did he want? He did not want this. That was easy enough to know. But what was the alternative? Did he want to go into the ground? As he thought about this his mind slipped into fantasising about it, in a way he had not permitted himself for a long time. The feel of the cool earth around him, cradling him, protecting him from all the overwhelming sensations. Peace. He wanted that. He wanted it more than he could hope to express. But could he deal with the consequences? Could he sleep soundly in the earth knowing the damage he was causing with his choice? His head was starting to ache, this was more thinking than he had done in a long time, his brain could not quite take it. He sighed, and surrendered himself back to the half aware haze, which was just bearable.

* * *

“It was an absolute disaster!” Lestat raged as he paced up and down the small reception room in front of Marius. “I cannot believe that woman! As far as I can see she doesn’t even deserve to be called a doctor. What were they doing in there for so long? And Louis wasn’t any better after it, if anything he was worse! This just won’t stand Marius; you and that bloody council will have to think of something else.”

Marius remained silent through this tirade, waiting for Lestat to let go of some of his anger before speaking. Eventually, after another furious stamp around the room Lestat threw himself down onto a plush red chaise lounge.

Marius cleared his throat. “And what does Louis have to say on the matter?”

Lestat scoffed. “What does he have to say on any matter, would be a more pertinent question.”

“Lestat, I know it has been hard, you have had to make a lot of decisions for Louis, often he has not been in a state to make them for himself. But I really do think you should discuss this with him before making this decision, it is a matter of his own health we are discussing.”

Lestat glared at Marius distrustfully. “You are accusing me of controlling him, aren’t you?” Marius raised him hands to defend himself but Lestat went on, “do you know how hard the past months have been for me? Life is difficult enough without having to live it for two people! I made all those decisions for Louis because he will make none for himself. He won’t even acknowledge that anything outside of his own brain is happening! I took charge because I had to, because I have to take care of him. I have always had to take care of him.” Lestat’s voice died down and his eyes were cast down to the floor by the time he finished speaking.

Marius went to him and laid a hand on the shoulder, “I know Lestat. Please believe me when I say I know what it is to try and protect the ones you love. It feels like an impossible job. But sometimes we get away with ourselves, we make decisions it is not for us to make. And though we do it in the name of love, sometimes it is not right. Please, let us go and speak with Louis before you make this decision.”

After a while Lestat looked up at Marius and brushed the streaks of blood away from his face with the back of his hand. He nodded and rose and together they went to Louis and Lestat’s rooms.

* * *

When they entered, they found Louis sitting on an armchair, reading, with obnoxiously loud classical music playing the background. Lestat cast a glance at Thorne who was standing in the corner, he pressed some buttons on a remote control and the music died down. Louis looked up in response to the quiet he was now being permitted to enjoy, until Lestat opened his mouth.

“Well, considering how poorly that session went I don’t think we will continue with the therapy.”

Louis sat, still and unmoving, staring blankly at Lestat. After a long minute Lestat turned, exasperated, to Marius, “See, I told you he wouldn’t have anything to say about it.”

But inside of Louis’ head a storm was raging. For the first time in months, he had felt a glimmer of something past the dull irritation which had plagued him. The light of the sun had broken through the grey gloom for just a moment. But now the clouds were blowing back over, and he was being cast into shadow. To have been offered this small hope and for it to be snatched away again so quickly was almost more than he could bear, and for a while he was paralysed.

This was his last hope, and if it was gone… He didn’t want to think what would become of him. Indecision had been the bane of his long life. When he could have pushed Lestat and his dark gift away, he had hesitated. When Lestat had made Claudia, he could have stopped it, but stood undecided. When Claudia had twisted that knife in Lestat’s heart and Lestat had implored him for aid, he had been paralysed between decisions. And here he was again, unable to act, passive.

But something in Louis chest cracked then. He could stand by as a passenger in his life no longer, not this time. And he abruptly stood from his place on the chair. Lestat’s and Marius’ attention was immediately focused on him and he almost faltered under their scrutiny. But he stayed his course and went over to Lestat and took his hand. Lestat was too surprised to move.

“Please, don’t.” Louis whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of Lestat and bent his head down, the picture of sorrow. “Lestat, I must go back, please, don’t take this away.”

Lestat’s hands hovered around Louis head, longing to stroke and caress his hair, but afraid of interrupting this rare show of emotion. But when Louis looked up at Lestat, the misery contained within his emerald eyes hit Lestat like a physical blow and he dropped to his knees in front of Louis. His hands fluttered uselessly around Louis face, like he was a fragile porcelain doll which Lestat was afraid would crack under his touch. Guilt crashed down on Lestat for what he might have done. The thought that he had caused this misery made him feel wretched and rotten. Everything was so confused in his head. Right and wrong were no longer so clear.

“Of course, my love, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” And it was not just this instance he was praying for forgiveness for. And he gathered Louis up and they held each other desperately, as though they were each other’s life-rafts in dark and stormy waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This one took me ages to write for some reason, I had to force it out paragraph by paragraph, but I had a spike of inspiration today and managed to get it finished!  
> I'm determined to finish this fic as I have a bad habit of starting them and never finishing them, which I need to stop doing.  
> Next time: Louis gets some therapy time and we get to hear his account of... well lots of stuff.


	7. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis goes to therapy

The next night Louis entered the doctor’s office once again. She greeted him warmly and they sat down. Folded on the seat next to Louis was a bundle of clothing.

“I hope this is what you were looking for.” The doctor said, before giving Louis some privacy to change. The clothes consisted of a soft black jumper, slightly too large for Louis so that it was a little baggy and a pair of dark jeans. Louis stripped off the constricting, overly decorated clothes Lestat had supplied that morning and donned the new ones. He immediately felt better, comfortable and suddenly able to breathe, even though he hadn’t realised he was lacking this before. It saddened him that this feeling would only last until the end of the session, when he would have to change back.

The doctor returned and asked, “So what will we do today?”

“I had hoped we might do the same as yesterday.” Louis said, hopefully.

“Of, course, it’s your time Louis, we may do as you wish. But, I wonder, if first we might speak for a bit, so I may get to know you a little better? I fear I am less educated on this matter than most, as I have read none of the books written by yourself or Monsieur de Lioncourt.”

“Oh,” Louis murmured, downcast. He had been hoping that nothing would be expected from him and he longed to refuse the doctor’s proposal, but he suppose it was a small price to pay for the quiet he could enjoy later. “Yes, I suppose that’s fine.”

The doctor smiled radiantly and began by inquiring about his origins. Where had he been born and grown up.

Nobody had ever really asked Louis about his life before Lestat. It was as though people thought his life began when the whirlwind that was Lestat had torn through. He supposed in a way it had. Everything before that seemed dull and uninteresting in comparison to anything involving Lestat. But the doctor seemed genuinely interested in Louis life, his thoughts, his feelings. And despite himself, Louis found himself opening up, bit by bit every session. And over the next few weeks, his story came out.

He told of the endless, dangerous voyage across the Atlantic when his family had emigrated to America, he had long forgotten his childhood fear of the deep roiling waters, the crashing waves and the unknown all about them.

He talked of things he himself had long forgotten, excavated now like long buried bones. Sneaking off with his brother to steal fruit from neighbouring gardens, their little sister trailing behind despite them trying to stop her. His long and boring lessons, taken privately in their house, as was done in those days. And the governesses. Oh the governesses. Picked solely for the harshness of their voices and the bunions on their feet! Or so it had seemed to seven-year-old Louis being smacked for bad table manners.

He found he could hardly remember his father, a distant figure even before he grew ill and passed-away, leaving the estate in Louis uncertain hands. But he remembered his mother. Her soft hands and softer voice, chasing away the demons in the night and holding him close. She would sing to him and make up the most fantastic games to play. But most of all, he remembered her reading to them all. She would sit, regal and powerful in her wicker chair on the veranda of the house. Louis and his siblings sitting cross legged around her like disciples at the feet of Christ as she read the most wonderful words from old and dusty books. Or she might spin her own tale, eyes lighting up with a deep fire as she looked down at them and took them through joy and defeat, sorrow, anger and love.

He spoke also of his adult human life, short though it had been. His grief and guilt over his brother’s death. His weakness, turning to drink and debauchery. He was shocked to find he still felt ashamed for the way he had dealt with his grief. Through some carefully placed words of the kind doctor, he began to realise that he blamed himself for what had happened that night he had met Lestat. All these years he had held onto the kernel of resentment that Lestat had doomed him to this sinner’s life. But he had been on that road long before Lestat had appeared in his life.

Then he began to recount the long years spent with Lestat in New Orleans and all that had come after. It was strange to tell it to someone who had not been there or read about it. At least, read Lestat’s or Louis angry, grief-stricken point of view on it.

“I felt so confused and alone with Lestat. You cannot know how it was back then, when it was just the two of us. The claustrophobia. He had me trapped, whether that was his intention or not. Where could I go? I knew nothing of the vampires in Europe or anywhere else. I could not leave and make a coven of my own. One, because I was too weak to achieve such a feat and also, as Lestat well knew, I would never perform such a deed, not then. I could not have imagined a greater seal on my fate than producing another such monster as myself. And the fear of being alone was too much, the only thing worse than facing this fate with only Lestat, who felt so differently to me about everything, was facing it alone.

“And I was afraid of him. Even then, his power was great, especially compared to mine. My life was not my own and I hated him for that. But also, something which I never addressed in my books because my anger was too great, I was ashamed that I was not enough for him. I was not good enough for Lestat. He was so beautiful and charismatic, and I loved him to absolute distraction. But I could not be what he wanted or needed me to be. And he has never been shy about vocalising this to me, as if I needed any further confirmation of my own fears. I failed him, and in doing so trapped him as well. I bound him to me by my incompetence, ignorance, and weakness. If he had left me, I would have perished, he knew that better than me. And I was so afraid that he would leave me. I was more afraid of this than I was angry at being trapped.

But Lestat never left me. In the end, it was I who left him. When Claudia stabbed him with that awful knife and his blood was leaking out of him, when he looked to me and pleaded for help, for mercy, I betrayed him. I have always been the one to leave. I do it because I fear how awful it would be for him to leave me. I have never been able to face the thought of it. I am just waiting for him to turn around and come to his senses one day. For him realise that I am not worth it, my appeal has faded, and he can’t be bothered with me anymore.

This time, I promised myself that I would not leave him. I promised it to him. That this would be it. And I meant it! I truly did. But my body and mind apparently have other ideas. The body that Lestat created is now driving me to betray him once again. And I fear that this time, if I do, it will be the last time.”

And with that Louis stopped, realising that he had uncovered the true reason behind his continued torture. The reason he could not put a stop to it and leave. He was sure that this betrayal would be the tipping point, Lestat would not have him back.

The doctor was silent for a long time, not wanting to interrupt the deep reverie Louis was in after this revelation.

After a time, she cleared her throat, bringing Louis attention back to her,

“If it helps, I think I may have a scientific explanation for your condition.” Louis nodded, to indicate the doctor should go on,

“From the literature I have read and accounts I have heard from other blood drinkers, it seems that requiring to rest in the ground is related to a variety of things. One is great trauma or grief. Another is healing after serious injury. And the last, which I think applies to you Louis, is a sudden increase in power. You have told me of the attempt you made to commit yourself to the sun, and the blood sharing between you and Lestat after this. This increased your power greatly and very suddenly, when it would have taken you many hundreds of years to gain it on your own “naturally”, so to speak. I have heard accounts from other blood drinkers who have gained their power in such a way. They all say that the increase in senses can be overpowering. You would have gone from having fairly dull senses for a vampire to incredibly sensitive sight, hearing, smell. This occurring very suddenly must have had a great impact on your brain, which would have had little time to adapt.”

“But that occurred years ago now,” Louis argued, “I have had these increased abilities for much longer than I felt like this.”

“This is true. Perhaps you have just been slowly building up to it. Perhaps it is being in such a busy and vibrant place as the chateau. I know you say you are not proficient at mind reading or do not partake of it. But your innate ability for it must be great by now. It could be that the seeping of so many great minds on the periphery of your thoughts, even if you are not aware of it, has caused this state. I cannot say for certain. This is a new field of research, and nothing I am saying has yet been evidenced, it is merely thoughts I have been having.”

Louis nodded, pondering the doctor’s words. Somehow, having a plausible explanation for what was happening made it seem less his fault. It was not a decision he had made, or a fault in his character, simply a symptom of the great change which had been worked in him.

“And Louis. It is not for me to tell you what to do. I am here to listen, and I hope to explain what I can. But I feel I must say this. If the choice is between Lestat possibly not forgiving you, or unbearable suffering on your part, leading to a situation in which Lestat will never have the chance to forgive you because you are not there to be forgiven,” Louis tensed at the doctor’s insinuation. He had not mentioned his thought of ending it all with her, but behind those glasses was a sharp mind which nothing much escaped. “what would you rather choose?”

Louis left after that and pondered her words for a long time. The next session, Louis strode into the room and announced,

“Please may I use your phone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter one this time but it's going to ramp up soon. Only a few chapters left I think!  
> Thanks for reading :)


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